speak up.

The book made me feel like absolute shit.

Excuse my language, but it did.

I mean, what kind of book does that?

Dating advice books, that’s what kind.

I know, I know, what am I doing wasting my time reading publications about how to date?

I mean, clearly, I’m not the most savvy with men. And apparently, I thought it was problematic enough to warrant purchasing a book that I somehow thought would help me.

Evidently, it didn’t.

I got about twenty pages in, trying my best to give it the opportunity to change course, but even that was generous. After realizing that it wasn’t right, nor normal to be feeling this amount of shame and embarrassment whilst reading a book that was supposed to help me “embrace my feline powers”, I pushed it away and said to the bartender: get it out of my sight!

(yes, I was reading this book at the bar cause that’s what savvy single ladies do)

I mean it was downright awful. It summarized how women should never chase men, how it goes against men’s biological desires to be the hunters.

Right.

In this day and age, I feel like this particular summation of how men and women work is an expired mindset and just lumps all men and women into these prim proper little categories. Cause we are allllllll the same, right?

And women going after what they want? Women wanting sex? Making the first move?

Not recommended. “Let them come to you. You’re the prize.”

I mean, we totally are, but come on. We should be liberated enough in this day and age to know better than to abide by these outdated principles.

And while I’ve never “chased” a man, I have been the first to start the conversation, especially if I had a little something something on the mind.

*wink wink

So yeah, reading this book brought out some feelings of shame as I recalled such past occasions. And I am not about to start feeling humiliation for decisions I made in the past, especially when they had good outcomes.

So I used my voice and said no.

Which honestly, is a new practice for me, this using of my voice.

Particularly, in using it to communicate how I feel.

Don’t get me wrong- I am excellent in communicating how I feel: when I actually choose to communicate.

Which isn’t often enough.

See, most of the time, I struggle with speaking up. Standing up for myself, establishing boundaries, saying no, dealing with confrontation, expressing how something affects me regardless of how the other person responds, those are all examples of situations in which I’m nervous to open my mouth.

And I don’t understand because when I do decide to use my voice to effectively convey a message, it feels marvelous.

So what’s holding me back from speaking up all the time?

I seem to have no trouble communicating on paper, which I guess you could consider to be my safe space. I think part of why I prefer writing how I feel is because I have time to process, articulate, erase, and move things around to best express what I want to say. But no one answers back when I write, and I nix opportunities to get any meaningful feedback.

So I ask again: what is it about speaking up that makes my stomach twist itself into knots?

Well, as much as I loathe admitting it, I care a lot about what other people think of me. Too much, one might say. And instead of being authentic and true to who I am and saying what needs to be said, I’ve become more concerned with how people will view me, wanting so badly to be accepted and valued.

Kind of ties into my fear of rejection.

Problem is, my life no longer feels like mine when I’m constantly worried about what others are thinking of me.
And this is my life, so it’s time I take full ownership of it.

Starting with verbally saying no, even if it’s just to a book that makes me feel like shit.

fear not.

I have a fear of rejection.

No, not spiders, or tight spaces, heights, or clowns.

Though all have scared me at some point in my life.

Nope, I’m terrified of good old fashioned dismissal, and it has lived with me for years. Haunting, reminding, and oftentimes prohibiting me from living life fully and without fear of getting hurt.

I’ve become so sensitive to the prospect of being spurned, that I will literally do anything and everything to avoid it.

Don’t we all?

But sometimes, this gets me into an unnecessary pickle.

In the past, I've misinterpreted and exaggerated social cues as preludes to rejection. Guy leaves me on read and I automatically assume I’m being ghosted.

Cause that’s what I’ve known, especially when it comes to men.

So when I anticipate these projections, I start to armor myself for what I expect to come. I become the warrior queen preparing for the inevitable sting of rejection.

But the truth is, my acute awareness sometimes skews reality, and I wind up hindering my ability to be present, to let things flow naturally.

I obsess over what I can’t control and it makes me anxious. I panic, ruminate, perseverate, I lose all ability to think clearly, and it has prevented me from putting myself out there, for the fear of getting heartbroken again is too much to bear.

Well, the other day, I was faced with an opportunity to change my ways, and it was this scenario that made me recognize that I even have this fear in the first place.

I was sitting at the bar, and I saw my sister upset. She was pacing with frustration, with the expression of someone trying their darnedest not to cry, and I felt this pull to console her.

I started to get up when all of a sudden, I remembered the last time I tried to empathize with a friend, which ended in a cold, brusque, and painful way (she had spurned my hug, cold shoulder and all, which really embarrassed and hurt me).

Where most folks would just brush that cold gesture off their shoulder, I have trouble forgetting about it. It sits with me and it stews. Stays there as a reminder of how gut wrenching it feels to get rejected. And do I really want to go through that again?

So I stood there at the bar, facing a crossroads.

I could either choose to follow my heart and offer warmth, support, and compassion, with the risk of getting turned away or I could stay put, which would reinforce my fear of perceived rejection, and miss out on an opportunity to make someone feel better.

What to do, what to do.

As much as the idea of getting the cold shoulder again frightened me, I chose to walk up to her anyway, arms outstretched and welcoming.

And… she hugged me back.

*sigh of relief

She normally isn’t a hugger either, so it meant the world to me that she accepted my offer of empathy, and I hope it helped heal her.

What I learned is that life is full of rejection. It’s in the chapters of the past, it will likely be woven into the fabric of one’s future, but I’m deciding how much I let it control how I feel.

Because honestly, I’m tired of constantly allowing it to consume me. It’s exhausting. This perceived and actual fear of rejection is inhibiting my ability to be kind and present, so I’m choosing to continue putting myself out there, regardless of what the outcome may be.

Ruth Gordon says,“Courage is like a muscle. We strengthen it by use.”

So, get ready for the hugs.